


Arts and Crafts and Kidnapping

by dragonofdreams



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Mob, Christmas, Dark, Dark Steve Rogers, Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:55:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28300473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofdreams/pseuds/dragonofdreams
Summary: You catch the eye of one of the mafia bosses hiding under the disguise of The Corporation. After month of watching, he decides it’s time to bring you home and break you in.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Kudos: 90





	Arts and Crafts and Kidnapping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hurricanerin on tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=hurricanerin+on+tumblr).



> A/N: This is from my Tumblr.  
> This is my submission for the @darkmcuficswap. My giftee is @huricanerin. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Wordcount: 4620
> 
> Warnings: Swearing, fem!reader, rape (mentioned), dubious consent, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome (as usuall portrayed in fanfic – not realistic), breeding kink, threats of violence, non-con touching, manhandling
> 
> 18+ only, Dead dove do not eat, Don't read if this upsets you!

You took a deep breath in, cuddled up in the comfy armchair in Steve’s, well, your living room, and took a sip of the hot tea Steve had brought you before leaving for the office. “Jarvis, has Steve left the floor?” you asked the corporation AI anxiously.

“Yes, Miss. Mr. Rogers is in his office.” You laughed giddily as you reached below the chair and pulled out your knitting supplies. Your nerves were showing. You were making Steve warm socks for Christmas and with only one day to go to finish your project you were happy that only the tip of the second sock was left.

It wasn’t easy to surprise Steve as you only had those few times to knit when he was at the office (once he’d allowed you to knit when he wasn’t around) and you still needed to work on your fake project (a scarf for Bucky) so Steve wouldn’t get suspicious of what you did when he was gone. After all, Steve was still reluctant to leave you alone. Rightfully so.

As you picked up the thread and started knitting it hit you how far you had come. 

You were allowed knitting needles! Actual wooden needles, which were basically weapons, and Steve trusted you with them! Your chest swelled with pride. Only 8 short months ago this would have been impossible. You refused to feel guilty as you stared at the quasi-weapons in your lap and tried, much more unsuccessfully to quell the feeling of pride you’d gotton from Steve’s show of trust.

Meanwhile, Steve sat in his office staring at Jarvis’ security feed and watched you knit away at his socks. He fondly smiled at your eagerness to surprise him, still naively unaware that he was always watching what belonged to him.

As you finished the last sock you thought about how perfect this little gift was. After all, it was your knack for arts and crafts that brought you and Steve together.

You still remember it like it was yesterday. The first time you’d met Steve.

He of course had known you forever and had decided to finally introduce himself on a warm spring day when you had been in central park by yourself making flower crowns. You now thought fondly of how intimidated you had been of him back then.

*** 8 months prior - April ***

You were soaking up the first real heat of a reluctant spring, making flower crowns for all the kids who’d seen you do yours and then had come up to ask you for their own.

New York didn’t feel like New York today. It felt like a small village where strangers could be trusted to make flower crowns for the kids and you loved it. Loved seeing their smiling faces when they brought you dandelions and daisies and then raced back to their parents with flowers in their hair.

You felt at peace in the sun until you heard the roar of a Harley coming to a stop before the park gates. Nothing terrified you more than those bikes. Their thundering the fanfares of the dark knights who ruled this city. Wherever one could hear their low rumble a man in a finely tailored suit wasn’t far. A company man. One of Stark industries’ executives. A man, more powerful than any politician, a man with the power over life and death.

Of course, you didn’t really believe all these stories of businessmen hiding their malicious selves in dark allies. You were an adult, for christ’s sake, but you couldn’t help but be afraid when you heard their smoke-blowing steeds on the streets of New York and you also noticed how kids, who were about to approach you, were ushered away from the man entering the park.

You’d seen him before you realized. In the café you frequented. In your favorite bookshop. At work. You’d never realized he was of Stark Industries until now.

He looked more like an angel than the devil he was supposed to be. His long, dark-blond hair neatly combed back, his well-groomed beard, his beautiful blue eyes, which matched his immaculate suit, which probably cost more than you paid rent in a year in your little dive in the Bronx.

The man handed his leathers to a dark-haired man shadowing him, along with his helmet. He was almost too handsome to be in this park, you thought absent-mindedly. He stood out, and at the same time, he was so at ease that he fit right in. He oozed power and you wanted, you really wanted to run, because he was dark, despite his wholesome all-American look, but he also was so calm, and in charge and beautiful that you wanted to draw him, be drawn in by him.

Only when he stopped before you, did you realize you had been staring and quickly averted your gaze. _You never look at an executive!_ Your mother’s words echoed in your mind, chastising you, as you stared at your hands, deftly weaving dandelions together. Praying that he would walk past, that he would forgive you, that all those stories were just that, old wives tales to keep their daughters in check.

When his shadow blocked out the sun you started to shiver. You had been caught, caught like a deer in headlights.

“Now darling,” the man’s voice was so deep and silky smooth you wanted to reach for it and wrap yourself up in it, “do we know each other? I feel like we do, you know, with you staring at me all the way from the gate to here, I must assume you were desperately waiting just for me.” He drawled out, his voice kind, if a little smug.

Heat was rising to your face, “I am so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to intrude, I will get out of your hair” you mumbled, gathering your long-abandoned book and purse as you got up, just as he settled down on your blanket.

‘Well, you’d just buy a new one’, you thought as you tried to scurry off. A strong hand locked around your ankle.

“Sit down.” You stared down at the imposing man lounging below you in the sun, all spread out, showing off his physical power.

“I promise, it won’t happen again, sir, I won’t tell.” Your voice rose as you begged, to no avail, as fear gripped you tight when all the stories of dead women you read in the papers surfaced in your mind, making your heart race and your throat close up.

“Sit. Down. Now. Angel. I am not a patient man. Don’t test me.” His voice had turned to steel, as unbending as his grip on your ankle.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, steeling you against the panic blooming in your chest, and slowly sat down.

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” And just like that, his voice was calm again.

“What…” your voice broke, “who are you?” you whispered. Staring at your leg where his perfectly manicured hand was still wrapped around your ankle.

The park around you was growing eerily quiet. People were leaving. The sun was still shining, the birds still chirping, but the world had stopped spinning and the shock of it was taking your breath away.

“I’m Steve. Steve Rogers. I’m the executive art designer at Stark Industries.” You stiffened even more at his words. He was one of the bosses. ‘Executive Art Designer, my ass’ you mentally scoffed. You were done for.

“Do I scare you, little bird?”

You wanted to lie. You really wanted to lie and say no. You wanted to show strength, but instead, you just nodded.

“Words, angel.” Steve reprimanded gently, as he pulled you into his broad chest, forcing you to rest against his strong, hard body.

“Yes, Steve.” You rushed out, trying to keep all your emotions at bay. Your fear, your anger at being pushed around, and that little bit of excitement over the gorgeous man next to you that really shouldn’t be blooming in your chest.

“That’s all right, angel. You’re right to be.” He rumbled. “You don’t know yet that I am here to protect you from the world and yourself.”

At that you reared back, trying to get out of his grasp, to get away, just away.

‘What was he talking about?’ you thought panicked.

But you didn’t get far. For a man of his size, Steve moved extraordinarily quickly. Within seconds Steve had grabbed you again, forcing you back into his arms, which now looked around you like vices.

“Ah, ah, ah, angel.” He tutted. “Don’t even think about running. You’re not getting away!” Steve manhandled you into his lap with ease. His left hand went to your throat, pinning you to his chest, while his right slipped up your skirt. “If you so much as think of moving from my lap, Bucky over there,” Steve’s hand left your throat, gripped your chin and turned your head to the dark-haired man resting under a tree to your right, who’d taken Steve’s leathers earlier, “will hunt you down, and drag you back to my place, like the brat you are.” His voice came out like steam, burning you, making you flinch back, into his arms. “Why don’t we save him the trouble? How about that? Can you behave?”

“Yes, Steve.” You gave in. You wanted to throw up. The few people walking past were very carefully looking away from you, as tears formed in your eyes.

His hand possessively grabbed your thigh and he squeezed softly. “You’re a quick learner, I like that about you, always have!” Steve praised, making you shiver. Fuck, his attention was a beautiful drug, you couldn’t help but crave. The meaning behind only sank in slowly.

“Always?” you asked, turning to him, only to see a smug smile grace his face. “Yes, angel, always. I’ve been watching you for a long time, you see. I’ve been looking for a girl, for a while now, and then last Christmas you stumbled into the coffee shop where I was meeting a client, and I knew then and there, I’d have to have you.”

“Oh” was all you could manage at his confession. So you hadn’t been crazy when you felt like you’d been followed these last couple of months, that the droning of the city had been enhanced by the roar of bikes. You’d thought you were just lonely. Trying to conjure up a companion who wasn’t there and freaking yourself out, when reality had been so much worse.

You really had seen him everywhere. His goddamn suit should have told you who he was, but you had to be brat, think of yourself as all grown up and strong enough to forget everything your mother had taught you about how to be safe in this city. You wanted nothing more than to run, but if you had ever had a chance, it was well gone now. Why did you have to be so careless? So stupid? You wanted to curse yourself out, but you knew there was no point in dwelling on past mistakes. You had to deal with this now…

“Well, I really would love to sit here with you all day, maybe explore the area, “ at that his hand quickly moved up your leg and cupped your cunt possessively, making you shudder, “but I have meetings to attend to.” Steve lifted you of his lap.

“Oh, that is…” you struggled for words that wouldn’t upset him, “sad, indeed. But you know, who knows, maybe we will run into each other again? It’s a small world, as they say, and…” Steve’s laughter interrupted your stumbling attempt at a goodbye.

“Maybe you aren’t as quick a learner as I thought.” His voice was condescending and you hated it and him. “You’re coming with, angel.” It was an order, strict and short and life-ending.

Steve got up off the blanket and pulled you up as well. His left hand settled on your neck, his right disappeared in his suit for a second, then he pulled out a gun, and your heart stopped.

He arranged it between you, so no one could see and leaned in to whisper in your ear: “Just a precaution, so you don’t cause a scene, angel. But be aware, I’m not afraid to use it.” And with that, he directed you out of the park, to a waiting limousine. You didn’t know how you moved, your mind was frozen, only your body still working, carrying you into darkness.

The dark-haired man, Bucky, you reminded yourself, got on the gorgeous Harley parked behind the black car. “I’ll drive her home for you, sir.” He said, before putting on the helmet and pulling out into traffic with a roar, while Steve gently pushed you into the car. He got into the back with you and as he shut the door, quieting the outside door panic rose within you. You wanted to lash out. Instead, you remembered the gun, still firmly in your side, and started to cry. You spent the short car ride on Steve’s lap. Having to accept his comfort.

*** June ***

And that was how you’d gotten here. To this place. An apartment on one of the top floors of the mockingly-named Avengers Tower in the heart of Manhatten. It was the single scariest place you’d ever been, run by an all-knowing all-capable AI, an inescapable fortress, as you learned on your first night.

Steve had accompanied you into the bathroom to make sure you showered and didn’t plan your escape instead. So, naturally, you’d waited for the right moment, slipped out the door when he wasn’t looking, locked him in, and ran for the door.

The key was there, but when you twisted the handle, an automated, posh, British voice spoke up: “No fingerprints with access to leave the apartment registered. How may I help you, Miss?”

By now Steve was trying to break the bathroom lock and you knew you were running out of time. “There is a fire. It’s an emergency! I need to get out! Now!” you yelled, hoping that the fire thing would trigger an automatic override of whatever perverted prison Steve had set up. The opposite happened.

“I cannot detect a fire. The bathroom door is being opened. The Captain will take you to safety should it” You did not hear the rest, as Steve stormed towards you, anger rolling off him and your resulting panic drowning out the voice.

After that, you’d tried to get away two more times. Steve had always been there to correct your behavior. You hadn’t sat right for a week after your second attempt.

After your last attempt, Steve decided that it would be best to “fuck that little rebellious streak out of you! After all, it’s time we christened our new home, don’t you think?” and while the sex had been amazing, walking, much less running was out of the question for a couple days after and you never wanted a repeat. If Steve was gonna sleep with you, you at least wanted it to not be a punishment. Succumbing to him was just so much easier and you hated to admit it, but the sex kept you far more complicit than you would ever say out loud. His touch and praise broke you down in ways you’d never been able to imagine before.

*** August ***

“Yes, Steve.”

“Yes, I will, Steve.”

“I’m coming, Steve”

“Of course, Steve”

Yes Steve, yes Steve, yessteve, yes…

You hadn’t stopped saying no to Steve. Not quite. Sometimes you could still fight him, but every time that little word of agreement fell from your lips, you broke a little more. A little more light left your body.

*** October ***

“You’ve been really good lately, angel. Look at all the progress we are making.” Steve purred as he casually draped an arm around your shoulders pulling you against him on the couch. His hand rested on your boob, slightly massaging you through the thin excuse of a shirt you were allowed to wear.

Fuck, you missed normal clothes. This was a step in the right direction and you reminded yourself to be grateful. After all, Steve provided for you.

“Thank you, Steve. I’m trying. I can see what you’re doing for me and I wanna be good.” You mumbled, burying your face into his chest.

“That’s great.” Steve smiled down at you and then leaned in to kiss you on the forehead. You beamed up at him and snuggled in closer.

After all, he had been right. You were leading a better life, now that you were with him. He was looking out for you. You were in a safe building, you had everything you could ever need and a man who loved you and who you would learn to love. You were certain of it then.

***

You were lying in bed later that day, after a particularly intense round of fucking, when Steve pulled you onto his chest, while you moaned in protest at having to move your sluggish body. He suddenly asked: “What do you want for Christmas, babe?” His laser-sharp attention making you uncomfortable as you had no idea where he was coming from.

“Oh no, you don’t have to get me anything! I can’t get you anything! It wouldn’t be fair.” Your heart flipped when you saw his face open up in kindness at your concern, making you forget your weariness just as quickly as it had appeared.

“Don’t worry about that. I got my present early this year.” Steve murmured and bopped you on the nose. You could feel your face go up in flames and you hid your head in the crook of his neck. “Babe, I wanna give you something… And Bucky and the rest of the boys too. Maybe I could knit, or sew, or like do Origami?”

“That can be arranged, angel, but only when I’m here okay?” his voice was full of concern. Over your well-being, you told yourself. Surely Steve wasn’t thinking you’d try to use those things as weapons…

“Yes, Steve, of course! Only when you’re here with me!” you replied reassuringly.

Steve grinned down at you. “Okay, but what do YOU want for Christmas? You are so good at distracting me!” Steve laughed as he nuzzled into your hair.

“I… well… I…” you stalled. “No, it’s stupid” you murmured as you tried to push away your first idea, “Uhm… I… I never had a lot of jewelry? Maybe something like that?”

“Something so boring? What were you thinking of before? You know I wanna spoil you and if it’s something we can’t do yet I’ll just say no So… spit. It. Out.” His voice was assertive as his grip on you tightened painfully. Steve always demanded the truth from you. He could always tell when you were lying and was too strong for any resistance you once had.

“I will miss the snow. Can… Canwemaybegoforawalkinthesnow?” you rushed out, lifting your head, looking up at him.

“The snow, huh? I’ll think about it.”

And he did. A couple of days later a warm winter coat appeared in the hallway in your size and favorite color. “If you can be good from now until Christmas we’ll go out into the snow, angel.” He said when he saw you staring at it. He really was the most attentive man you’d ever met and you hated yourself for the plan forming in your mind as you hugged him close.

*** Christmas morning ***

You woke up filled with giddy excitement. Today was the day! Today you’d get to surprise Steve AND if Steve agreed, that you’d been his good girl, you’d get to go outside soon. Outside! Into the snow and the fresh air and sun and you just couldn’t wait!

You were sure Steve couldn’t wait either. After all, he basically had had to drag you away from the windows for a while now. You missed the sun just so much, but you also understood, that Steve was just watching out for you, and you were so grateful that he was putting your needs in front of any and everything.

You quickly hopped out of bed, still in your sloth jammies, and followed the sound of Steve moving around into the kitchen.

“Merry Christmas, Steve!” You trilled and jumped into his waiting arms and hugged him tightly. You’d never felt so safe anywhere in the world, it hurt your heart, to know what your future would bring, so you decided not to think about it and pressed yourself more firmly into his warmth.

“Merry Christmas, angel.” He replied and you could hear him smile at you. You loved how happy you made your gorgeous man.

***

After a long breakfast, and you unwrapping heaps of gifts, you finally got to surprise Steve with his socks. The giddy joy radiating through you made you bounce in your spot, as Steve put them on straight away before taking you in his arms and lifting you up. “I love them, babe! They look amazing and they are so soft!” His praise made you preen. There was nothing better anywhere in the world, you thought as sadness twisted your heart.

You squeaked as Steve started moving you into the bedroom. “You, little one, deserve a treat! You were so good, and even got me a surprise!” He kicked the door open with his foot. “I can’t wait for you to knit little hats and socks for our children!” You stared into his eyes clouded with the future he was planning for you. “Now, all we need to do is to finally get you, pregnant, angel. But don’t worry I’ll try harder this time!” Steve almost growled as he laid you down on the bed. You helped him get rid of your jammies. ‘One last time’, you thought. God, you would miss this.

Then Steve’s head settled between your thighs and your brain shut up as he licked a long stripe up your cunt and started suckling on your clit. The sudden assault made you gasp for breath and arch off the bed. Steve didn’t do sensual touches of foreplay. Steve’s foreplay was burying his face in your cunt, and it was the best thing in the world.

His tongue moved down and up into your opening, spreading you, lubricating you until your body could catch up with him, while he ground his nose into your clit. “Steve” you moaned, well whined, when a finger joined his mouth and all you could feel was him. He was your world.

“Steve, please. Please, I can’t wait, not today! Please!”

Steve’s following chuckle reverberated through you so deeply that your broken begging turned into a desperate sob, as his finger started rubbing your g-spot. You desperately wished you could swear. Instead, your hands found their way into his hair and held on tightly, making Steve growl in approval.

“You don’t make the rules here, sweetheart. I know you want my cock, but I want your little cunt intact, and not ripped to pieces, so you’ll take all the prep I give you!” His command was followed by a slap to your clit that did what so few men before Steve had managed so quickly. You came. You came, with Steve latching on to your clit again, pushing another finger into your tight channel and scissoring them apart quite brutally.

“See? I know how to get you there. Now you’re ready, angel!” To anyone else this his dark, low voice would’ve been threatening. To you, it was the sound of heaven’s gates opening up, as Steve lifted himself over you, wrapped your legs around his torso, and situated his fat, veiny cock at your entrance.

“Merry. Chris mas” he forced out as he pushed himself into you in one long rough thrust. His narrow hips opening your thighs even wider as you clenched down on him with all your might, your thighs locking you around him, pressing him down until his pubic hair ground against you.

“There we go. That’s it, princess. Here we go.” Steve cooed at you, as your hands slipped from his hair, grasping at nothing, while you tried to feel anything but the stretch of your channel around his glorious cock, its tip nudging against your cervix intently.

Your walls fluttered around him as the rest of your body spasmed in rhythm with his slow, deep, hard thrusts. Beneath him, you were at peace, in total agony until he finally sped up making you keen every single time he would rotate his hip, brush your g-spot or bump into your cervix with enough force to make you scream.

This was heaven. And it was hell.

A particularly hard thrust coupled with him grinding his pelvis against your clit had you climax again. As you clenched down, you could feel Steve follow. His thrust halting, his dick seizing and spurting his cum deep within you in thick waves.

He collapsed above you, hugging you close and flipping you over with him still inside you as he barely softened. You rested on his chest, both of you trying to catch your breaths, basking in the aftershocks of your orgasms.

Your world slowly came back into focus as Steve’s hand ran up and down your back. “So, Stevie, can we go outside later? I wanna make a snow angel, so bad…” you admitted sheepishly as you cuddled closer into his chest.

Steve’s hand stilled and suddenly his voice was dark: “I know about the knitting needle you are hiding in your coat by the door. Nice little plan you hatched there angel… The knitting supplies, your little secret project so I wouldn’t worry why you were nervous when I came home and your little, cute wish to get you outside…” You froze in his arms. How did he know?

“I’m really disappointed that you really wanted to go through with it, after everything I did for you, after everything I gave you! What was your plan anyway? Stab me in the middle of Central Park?” His touch was no longer soft but bruising as he grabbed you tight.

‘Well, yes, but you couldn’t admit that now’, you thought.

“We’ll talk punishments later after our guests leave. Just remember, you won’t be leaving me, angel…” Before you could fight, Steve’s hand had settled on your neck, squeezing tightly.

“One wrong move and I’ll lock you in the fucking closet.” He seethed. “We’ll see how much sun and fresh air you’ll get in there sweetheart! I am giving you a chance here, to celebrate Christmas with me and the gang, but if you so much as breathe out of line for the rest of the day, I’ll have them watch as I strip you down and tie you up and spank you so hard you won’t remember your name!”

“I’m sorry, Steve” you had started crying as soon as you realized he’d found you out. “I made this plan so long ago. I wasn’t really thinking about doing it, I just, I… I didn’t think, I,” Steve interrupted you harshly: “Shut up! As I said: We will deal with this later. Just remember: You are forcing me to do this. You are forcing us backward. And only because I know you, we get to celebrate today, instead of going outside where you would put yourself in harm’s way.” His grip on your hip and head had turned into brutal pain. “Now get dressed. Our guests will be arriving soon.” With that, he shoved you off him onto the bed and left you. Crying, alone, and petrified of what you had done.


End file.
